


autumnal

by trusteachother



Series: you got me in love again [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trusteachother/pseuds/trusteachother
Summary: Sansa knew she would suffer for this later, Joffrey did not like her speaking to anyone without his supervision, much less with someone who had such power over him, over his mother even.for the drabble fest; prompt: autumn
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: you got me in love again [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739029
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	autumnal

Sansa knew she would suffer for this later, Joffrey did not like her speaking to anyone without his supervision, much less with someone who had such power over him, over his mother even.

Jon did not visit Casterly Hall often, maybe once or twice a year since she had been received. She had probably met him about six or seven times, twice at his aunt's home. She had spoken with him plenty despite this fact. Sansa would never say they were intimate, she wouldn't deem it proper if it were so, but there was an ease to their conversations, a sense of friendship she dearly missed in its absence.

“Miss Sansa, how have you been?”

They kept a moderate pace and a decent four feet distance between them, but something seemed off, there was a scent in the air she couldn't quite name. 

Maybe it was a feeling. 

“Quite well, thank you. And yourself?”

They entered the orchard area; the fallen fruit had been at last picked up, the fallen leaves gathered in neat piles. Sansa adored that part of the estate, they were concealed from view but would be alerted to any spies.

Jon must've realized it too, for he stopped suddenly and turned to her, brow furrowed. 

“Miss Sansa.”

She stared at him, expecting him to continue. He sighed, shook his head and continued on, leaving her standing there.

“Jon.”

He was a gentleman and would say nothing of it, of course, but she could just imagine what he thought of her misstep, her informality.

“Forgive me,” he said, turning. Sansa noticed that his neck was flushed, his eyes watery.

She understood it then, saw it as plain as day. There was no word to describe it (she wouldn't even think of it before _he_ said it), only what she had learned from books and songs.

“Will you sit next to me at tea?”

“Joffrey sits next to me at tea,” came her reply. 

“He's only a boy.”

Sansa couldn't quite grasp the true meaning of their conversation, only that it was bigger than Casterly Hall, Joffrey, herself or Jon.

“I'm only a girl, then.”

He _scoffed_ and Sansa couldn't believe her ears. She wanted to giggle, but the look that Jon gave her right then made her pause. He looked completely, utterly miserable.

“No, no -- I mean yes. I am the same age as him, only two years older than you, I do not mean he is a _boy._ I mean that he is immature and a bully. He doesn't deserve to sit next to you, not at tea, or at dinner, or ever. He doesn't deserve to even exist near you.”

She drew a shaky breath, felt her hands clammy, but her voice did not tremble.

“And you do?”

Her lack of prospects, her dependance on the Lannisters, Joffrey's hateful ways; all anxiety abandoned her at once. 

It was only them, in a cool autumn morning, Jon and her, looking, waiting, learning.

“It's your choice to make, Sansa.”


End file.
